#Transformers lost light server | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

candy8448 · 1 month

Text

LU Server 5th Bithday Gift Exchange Fic

Timeshift Stones

Gift for @chatter-crow :)

When stumbling through a sandstorm, Link and Zelda discover a strange stone that has some strange affects that could possibly let them understand more about the distant past, bringing them to the founding of Hyrule...

========

Sand flew all around them, blocking their senses. It howled and swirled and the only thing Link could make sense of was the feeling of Zelda's hand in his as they attempted to push through the sandstorm, Link's shield being futile in warding off sand from their heads. He tried yelling to his companion but his voice was lost in the wind, her's too as Link put one foot in front of the other, lifting through heavy sand on every step.

His focus was on breathing, stepping forwards through the shifting sand, keeping his hold on zelda lest they get seperated.

The two had just wanted to explore the Gerudo Dessert to see if there were any other old ruins, but they miscalculated when the sandstorm would hit and were now suffering the consequences as Link attempted to find the two some shelter, after all, trying to find their way back before the sandstorm died down would be impossible.

Link slipped.

His foot fell into a stream of quicksand and he distantly heard an accompanying yelp alongside his through the howling wind.

Link spluttered out sand as he gained his bearings.

"Link? Link! Are you okay?" Zelda yelled and Link ran up to her, helping her out of the speadily streaming pile of sand. They looked around, finding themselves in a cave of yellow stone. Link nodded and smiled to his friend and they rejoined hands, Link leading the way down the path. They couldn't return the way they came so the sooner they found a way back out the better.

Link lead them forwards in a steady march deeper down the cave until they reacher a fork in the tunnels. He elected to march down the one on the left and Zelda followed silently, examining the stones for anything. There was nothing to hear other than footsteps and the distant sound of sand falling. Some part of him wondered where the sand went if it didn't flood the cave?

The hero let out a grumble as they arrived at a dead end, rolling his eyes irritably and turning around to check out the other path.

"Link wait!" Zelda exclaimed, when Link turned back, he spotted her looking with excitement at some special stone hidden barely peeking out of the yellow. Link looked at her, lifting his sword with a questioning hum, and a smile when he got an affirming nod. He wasted no time hacking at the yellow stone to uncover the mysterious stone underneath.

But then he finally struck the purple stone.

Before any of them could react, it chimed, turned blue, and a circular blue glowing ray shot out of it. Link could only blink open his eyes once the blue-rimmed circle passed over him. He ignored the change of his surroundings and he twirled around to check on his friend, only to stop suddenly when he laid his eyes on her.

She was suddenly different. She had long hair again, two strands in front of her ears tied with pink and green ribbons, she donned a pink dress and the hylian crest embroidered on a blue fabric hanging off her belt.

She also seemed to have a similar expression as she looked him up and down and only then was Link aware of his own change of armour. "Link?" She gasped in awe. He looked down at himself, finding himself in a familiar tunic, similar to ones he found in the depths though instead of tattered, dusty and old, it was clean, fresh and shiny. It was a light green tunic, breazy with a beige layer underneath and under that some chainmail. He now donned a long green cap and different trousers and boots to what he had moments before. He also had a white cloth with the hylian crest tied around him, easy to pull out at a moment's notice. The outfit was light and easy to move in despite the chainmail's weight. Link grinned at Zelda as she inspected herself and gasped in delight, both coming to a similar conclusion.

"Link! Oh Link! We've stumbled across something extraordinary! We appear to be in the clothes of the founders of Hyrule! The Hyrule before Raru and Sonia! This piece of stone must have been here since then! It's a devise that seems to warp the area to the past and- oh this is amazing Link!"

The area inside of the blue border was lush with green trimmed grass with even flowers, a trail that seemingly lead somewhere outside of the range of the bubble. It only covered a small area but it brought a lot of ideas to mind.

Zelda proceded to wander up to the border between the old and present and cautiously lifted her hand, pushing it through slowly. Nothing happened and she was still in the pink dress until she finally stepped fully through and Zelda returned to what she usually looked like. Link could see her shudder at the change. Zelda grinned at him and he gave a thumbs up, turning to continue hacking around the stone in hopes of breaking it free and taking it with them.

He experimentally hit the stone again. Whack activate, whack deactivate and so on, the both of them yelping in excitment every time the border washed over them and the strange tingle overtook them. Link continued to try and pry the strange stone out of the wall but to no avail, it just wouldn't come free. He sighed, his own dissapointment mirroring his friend's; imagine being able to take this thing and discover what the land of Hyrule was once like when it was being founded. If it was anything like this little area, the desert was possibly a flourishing forest! Imagine the discoveries they could make!

But alas, it was impossible to get it free no matter how much Link tried to loosen it. He winced with a sad shrug at Zelda who pouted but then pulled out the Purah Pad, placing a gem marker on their location of the map and then spending a while hurriedly scrawling notes in another tab of the Pad. "We will come back to this!" She said and Link held onto her hand again.

The sandstorm above ground must have ended because suddenly the Purah Pad's map had signal again, and with Link holding onto Zelda's arm, they teleported away back to Gerudo Town.

========

Headcanons and notes on Ao3

14 notes · View notes

farolero-posting · 4 months

Text

Energy

Summary: How the Barrens became empty.

Words: 3009

Read on AO3:

(full work below the cut)

It was 6:30 when the sky finally went dark, after weeks of instability. At that moment, Silver was watching over the phosphor shrimp monitoring project, along with a scientist with a mug for a head.

The man asked her to order all the units in the area to take samples of adult shrimp without being selective and place them in jars. It seemed that under the circumstances, it would be necessary to use them as a provisional source of lighting, as they investigated the issue. The robots were called to distribute the jars around the west northern area, being in the lookout for organic beings who may need assistance.

Robots had a text based messaging system that made communication faster during work. All robots were online, back then, connected to the same server. If she scrolled up far enough, she could still read those same orders in the main logs of the area.

She didn’t need to scroll that far to find them, anyways.

As head engineer, it had been her duty to call a meeting with the leaders of the ongoing research programs and the mining operations. She can’t remember the full sequence of conversation —and found a significant percentage of it to be irrelevant nowadays—, but she can recall the things she said, and the reactions that resulted from it. It was in her programming to have preferential attention to social interactions, and use her resources in decoding them for self monitoring.

After an update on the state of the area and the inner rings, the topic of conversation drifted towards the future of the Barrens’ operations. Silver listened attentively, adding up the arguments each of the researchers had to continue or halt their current operations, and the factors they had to watch out for. Food, source of light, trips across the ocean to the inner rings, salaries, healthcare…

At last, she added her own information:

“Our generator works on solar energy. Most of our machinery and our robots rely on the main generator to function. We don��t have enough people to sustain operations without the work provided by them.”

“Your area should’ve stopped exploiting the mines long ago, if you ask me.” An older man tilted his head in a way that accentuated his weary eyes.

“It is not my area, I happen to reside in its vicinity, but I am in charge of the Barrens as a whole” she corrected him, and he placed a hand on his forehead, shaking his head.

Disapproval perceived, she noted.

“Either way, we must shut them down, I’m sure everyone else agrees here. These last earthquakes have only been endangering the few living workers we have on them. We lost about five robots to the last collapse, which we can’t replace. It’s for the best that we cease that operation, at least.”

“We will have to shut down everything, not just the mines”, Silver concluded after a few seconds. This did not make the man happy. nor any of the other scientists in place.

“We can’t all lose our jobs, this is ridiculous.” She heard someone mutter, a young lady standing by the door, holding a notebook.

In the opposite end of the room, she noticed someone being hit in their side, by a coworker.

“....course she likes shutting down things, huh—ack” is all she grasped from them, said barely above a whisper, but within hearing range for her.

Silver had heard similar comments enough to know what incident the workers kept bringing up, even if they made an effort to hide it from her.

“I cannot allow operations that do not meet standards as they could constitute safety violations, and within three weeks, our main sources of energy will run out. Our backups are not sufficient, either. There are better chances of survival for living people within the inner rings.” Silver set her hands on the table, in a rehearsed attempt to make her point gain emphasis. “That takes priority.”

“So you propose we should evacuate all workers,” someone responded, she didn’t note who.

“Correct.” A disorganized chorus of voices rose up, but she didn’t keep up with the details. They would come to agree with her, eventually.

Silver does recall someone reaching out for her at her cabin later that night, hours after the workday was finished. Her friend greeted her with a smile, and after inviting him in, they chatted over a game of chess. At some point, the topic of the meeting was covered.

“I think you made the right choice, Silver… I understand it has to be difficult.” He spoke, taking his rook out of the starting point. “I’m sorry things ended up like this.”

“It is the option that is left, given the circumstances. I don’t have much of a choice other than solve the problem with the resources I have.” Silver barely looked at the board as she moved one of her pawns, eyes focused on her opponent’s rook. “Have you… found anything of note about the tower? You said you wanted to study it before.”

He frowned, pursing his lips as he played his turn. “I have not found anything beyond what you already know. I suppose I need to see what the place is like without the Sun…”

“Will you evacuate soon?” She moved her bishop. “Check.”

“I do not depend on the ships to travel, so that isn’t a priority. I hear they’re not the safest, given the… squares, as they have been called by the witnesses.” He retorted to sacrificing a pawn, knowing Silver would repeat the strategy.

“Of course. It makes sense.”

“Silver?” He looked away from the board, already aware of what move she would make. “I heard there are plans to evacuate tamed robots as well. What is your opinion on that?”

She noted the question may hint at more than what it states, but she cannot read further. Her friend’s intentions are not always clear to her.

“I suppose it’s reasonable,” she answered. “There are other purposes they can serve in the City, perhaps even the Glen.”

“What do you think about joining them?” He took out her bishop. “I believe the same can be true for you.”

“No.” She looked away, not wanting to see his disappointment. He grabbed her free hand, instead, pressing it lightly. He was not disappointed, then. “I don’t think I’m welcome. My best option is to look after this area for as long as it is possible.”

“I see, Silver.” He nodded, eyes closed, while Silver played her turn. “I understand, but please consider it, alright? I could take you there, if needed.”

“Checkmate.”

“Oh stars, when did your queen get there?”

The generator didn’t last a week, as it should’ve been expected.

After 140 hours had passed since the blackout, Silver received the first notification of low battery from a robot within the mines. Its location was out of reach, however, and the fact it was still partially functional despite the rubble around it made her… uneasy. Of course, being at a larger distance from the generator meant it would be among the first to shut down. Maybe there was some mercy in that. She wasn’t sure that the robot had enough of a frame of reference to care, or that it ever will. She hoped it didn’t. She quickly discarded that train of thought

The head engineer received interesting news later that day. As it turned out, in a couple of days a small fleet of rowbots would bring a few emergency supplies.

Individual power cells She recognized that kind, but she preferred not to think about them.

She could deduce what they would be used for.

Her friend had told her about some of the words spread around the Glen, and now the City. Some kind of prophecy from decades ago, now becoming true. Words of a dying light, and the long darkness that would follow it, before the ground, trees and rivers went dark as well. Silver was skeptical, but the words matched the predictions that the scientists could make out of their data analysis, and the events of last week had been the biggest confirmation for them all.

There were words of preparations for a savior too, not too many months ago. A later prophecy spoke of a messiah from another world, and how they would make a pilgrimage to illuminate the world again, wording that became more explicit in the last week. If that pilgrimage included the Barrens, then someone had to be ready to receive them.

The world had more problems than just the lack of sunlight, but they refused to acknowledge it, in Silver’s opinion. The fact no living being could stay for that long in this desert waiting for the messiah to come should have made it clear enough.

Silver’s opinion was background noise among the chaos of the last few days, Preparations for the evacuation were far from organized, and new events kept slowing down their progress.

“Engineer! Please, head to the outpost!” popped up in the robot communication feed. The robot stationed there had something to report in person.

When Silver reached the building, she found a mess of shelves, a scared intern next to a robot, and a corner covered in squares. The anomalies dissipated, taking away the supplies with them.

“We… lost our non-solar batteries…, Ms. Engineer.” The intern stammered. “There’s one… there’s a solar battery on the left side but it’s still in its package. It’s not useful.” She looked away.

“What? But we… were supposed to have at least another week.” Silver shook her head, moving on. “Alright, thank you for your report.” She turned towards the robot. “I need you to relay the message to move to stage 4 of the shut down process. Understood?”

“Understood,” a flat voice replied.

As she made her way to the shore, she was interrupted by more notifications.

“Internal battery is running low. Please replace the main generator’s energy source. Estimated time left, three hours.”

“Head engineer, we need you to calibrate your backup cell!” was shouted from a researcher by the shoreline.

But the robot didn’t listen.

At the fifteenth notification, she couldn’t neglect them any longer.

She sprinted into the vent zone, knowing most researchers weren’t wearing protection to follow her. She had three hours to do something right.

Silver approached a group of robots pushing a minecart, and directed them to the chemical processing factory. She repeated this operation all the way to the cliff side, and then backtracked towards the factory. A few robots insisted that leaving their post was outside of their programming, and she let them be, but still managed to gather close to forty of them.

The tamed robot positioned herself in front of the lines of machines. She stood out for her red hair, and unique, humanlike features. She was not like them, and yet there was a sense that she was the closest to them there was in that barren land.

Maybe her friend would think that thought was poetic. It didn’t matter at the moment.

“Stage four has begun. Our power will run dry soon.” She paused. “I think if I don’t explain the next step, you will not see it coming on your own. This protocol isn’t in your programming since this is an unprecedented event, and since nobody else will take the time to guide you through it, I guess it’s my duty to do something about this.”

Glowing blue eyes looked back at Silver.

“There are ways to send a robot into a dormant state.” She began, noticing how her steps sounded against the metallic ground. “Cyclical rest is the one you are familiar with. It occurs based on an internal clock, but can be triggered by an outside force during repairs.”

Arms stood still on their sides.

“There is a method where…” —Silver couldn’t describe what made her hesitate— “you are decommissioned. It occurs when a robot’s system malfunctions beyond repair, usually due to… conflicts in your code. You cannot perform it on yourself.”

Antennas blinked in a constant rhythm.

“Then there is energy loss. I have learnt that a sudden shutdown caused by it can cause collateral damage in the robot afterwards, even if they can be turned on again later. It is not advised. This is what will happen in less than three hours.”

Soft whirring echoed across the room.

“I will trigger a rest cycle on each of you. When the power runs out, your functioning won’t be affected, and when it’s back, you will be manually reactivated. Before I proceed, do you agree?”

One of the units in the first row asked: “What happens if someone needs assistance while we are not active? Shouldn’t someone stay on to wait for the power to go back?” The voice somewhat mimicked a question, with clear struggle, lacking a natural tone.

“Are you tamed?” Silver raised an eyebrow.

“I am not, this is spontaneous curiosity built from experimental code. I do not know what purpose my question has.”

Silver would have liked to ask about it.

“Then, let me ask again. Do you agree to let me make you dormant?”

“No.”

“Understood.”

Silver turned to face the others. “Can I proceed with you?”

Thirty eight “yes” responses flooded the room.

Silver was found by the entrance to the factory, her back resting on the wall, by one of the interns in charge of looking over the factories. She was carried towards her cabin, and was reconnected to a backup power cell, much like her body had been in her first days of existence, back in the City.

Unlike that time, she was woken by a different person. A friend. Maybe one of the few people who wasn’t intimidated by her.

“Silver, good to see you again,” he said, trying to give her a smile. “Apologies for the delay, we had to calibrate you to the cell using a cord. You can take it off now, of course.”

She sat up, reaching for the cord connected to her neck, and removed it with a quick move.

“It isn’t your fault,” she said.

Her circuits made her recall the last moments before the shut down. She remembers realizing she wouldn’t have time to make it to the shore, and deciding to sit down instead.

“I know what I was getting myself into.”

“I think I have an idea of what it was, indeed.” He nodded, holding a closed notebook in his hands. “I can understand the sentiment as well. If you would rather not discuss it I understand too.”

Silver shook her head.

“I reacted in a hurry.” She took a strand of hair, and felt it against her fingertips. The sensation was more intense than usual, likely a result of her awakening. “I know my purpose is to do whatever ensures the safety of the people and this action was reckless on my end.”

“What drove you to try?”

“I think… I think it was fear.” She shook her head, trying to change her phrasing. “It’s not fear for myself. I cannot fear harm coming my way when I know that someone else will be hurt if I act on that fear.”

“Have you felt fear before?”

The robot took a pause, trying to look back on her experiences, looking for a coincidence she knew existed.

“Sometimes silence speaks for itself,” he interrupted her thoughts. “I know you must be looking for it. You suspect you have felt it before, even if you aren’t sure.”

“When a robot is lost, sometimes it’s not fully broken,” she explained. “They can send distress signals to call for backups, and give an updated report of their damage. They are trying to preserve themselves, because there is something that pushes them.”

He nodded along in silence, writing down in his notebook. “You bring up an excellent point.”

“And… I am the only one who catches these signals. They drown among other reports, orders from someone else. Requests for help are spontaneous. If someone has to respond, it needs to be me.”

“Do you think you did the right thing?”

“Not exactly…” She paused. “Perhaps it needed another approach. But someone needed to do it. Not like it will matter from now on. It’s all over.” Pause. “I did the right thing but it doesn’t matter.”

“It isn’t all over, however.” He stopped writing, and looked at her. “Your actions will ensure that, one day, in the future, getting this place running again won’t be so hard.”

“I don’t think there is much left. This area will be empty soon. I will stay and keep working, because it is the only thing I can do, but this is… only for a hope we can’t rely on. Let’s admit it, this chance is over.”

“Think of it like a chapter of a book. Perhaps, this period of your life has ended, and the tension is rising… but there is worth in telling those stories, and one day, they shall pass. There is a future ahead of you. Your push for preservation relies on it.”

“What will happen in the next few days?”

“Many people still need to evacuate, and because of the squares, it will take longer than expected. There is currently a project to prepare for the potential arrival of a messiah, and we will do some testing as long as it is still safe to stay here.”

“What about you?”

“I am doing some work here, and will be traveling back and forth when possible. I can visit you as well.” He rubbed an amber necklace he wore, before changing the topic. “I have a letter for you.”

“Does she keep writing them?”

“That she does.” He took the envelope out of his book. “I will leave it for you to read. You don’t need to rush.”

“Alright, I will.”

She opened her logs, to find them in the same state as they were the last time she checked.

She didn’t open them again.

#oneshotgame #oneshot game #silver #the author #my writing #uggggggggasjaf what the fuck #yeah thats all i have to say

18 notes · View notes

ineffable-kelpie · 4 months

Text

My first ficlet for the Ace Omens discord server's second "20 Days of Hugs" challenge! The goal is to write 20 ficlets during the month of January, based on randomly chosen prompts.

Office Mates

Rating: G

Wordcount: 971

Prompt: Hugging the other from behind

Quick, light footsteps approached Furfur’s office. Furfur rubbed his eyes and made himself look busy. He knew those footsteps. Hopefully Shax would pick someone else to bother this time. Surely she'd learned from last time that Furfur wouldn’t do her any special favors, even if she still imagined he owed her for the lead on Crowley’s collusion with that angel.

There was a time when Furfur would have been glad to see Shax, but ever since she got promoted to ambassador plenipotentiary, she no longer had time to acknowledge lower-ranked demons she used to know. And Furfur didn't need the reminder of how long he'd been stuck in Requisitions while she climbed the ladder.

The footsteps did not continue past the door like he’d hoped, but stepped inside and stopped. “Oh,” said Shax’s voice.

“What do you want this time?” Furfur sighed. “Another ten thousand demons? I still haven’t got…”

He looked up and trailed off. Shax was standing in the doorway, holding a cardboard box and looking like she’d been caught in a trap.

Furfur frowned and set aside the forms he’d been pretending to fill out. “What’s all that?”

Shax looked down at the box like she hated it. “I’ve been reassigned,” she said in clipped tones. “Just. Looking for my new desk. I obviously got lost, excuse me.” She turned to leave.

“Hang on,” Furfur called after her. She stopped. “They did tell me I was getting a new office mate. Didn’t know it’d be you, though. I take it the bookshop siege went badly?”

Shax turned back around, staring at her box and pursing her lips the way she did when she was too upset to form words.

Furfur winced. Pity he hadn’t been able to get her a few more demons. He hadn’t thought it would go badly enough to bump her all the way down to requisitions. He got to his feet and motioned for her to hand him the box. “Here, let me take that.”

She handed it over. There wasn’t much inside, just some office supplies, a cell phone, and something green and spiky in a white bowl. “Is that a plant?” he asked.

“I stole it from Crowley,” said Shax. “The prize of his collection.”

Furfur doubted that. It was very small, no larger than a child’s head, and significantly less appropriate for a demon to decorate their office with. “Right. Well, it’s not gonna get much light down here,” he said, glancing at the flickering fluorescent light overhead.

“I intend to starve it slowly of nutrients.”

“Oh, great.” Furfur set the box in the corner. “We’ll have to share the desk, unfortunately, but I’ll put in a request for a new chair for you. Give me a moment.” He turned back to his desk.

As soon as his back was turned, both of Shax’s arms wrapped around him.

Furfur stiffened and squeezed his eyes shut, expecting Shax’s teeth to sink into his neck, or her claws to shred his throat. Neither of those happened. She wasn’t even squeezing him hard enough to suffocate him, just enough to hold him in place. He waited, but she made no move to attack him. If Furfur didn’t know better, he’d say Shax was hugging him.

Which she wasn’t, of course, because demons didn’t hug. Although, she had spent the last several months on Earth, so who knew what odd habits she’d picked up. “Er,” Furfur asked cautiously. “What’s this?”

“I’m demonstrating how easily I could attack you, if I wished. Since you were foolish enough to turn your back on me.” Shax paused. “But. I do need that chair. So I currently have no reason to actually harm you.”

“Okay.” Furfur relaxed, now that he knew he wasn’t in danger. The experience wasn’t unpleasant, actually. Huh.

“I am also,” Shax added, “holding you in place, so that you can’t run away. You have to listen to what I say.”

“Okay?” Furfur had no idea where she was going with this. It occurred to him that Shax didn’t actually need him to request her a chair, since if she discorporated him, she could just take his. He decided not to point that out.

Shax drew a deep breath. “I am. Sorry. That I mocked you for letting Aziraphale and Crowley slip past you. They are…more formidable than I expected.”

Furfur tried to turn and look at her, but unlike some demons, he did not have the gift of turning his head 180 degrees. “Is that all? I’ve already forgotten,” he lied. “Besides, they’ve stuck both of us down here, so I think we can call it even.”

“Quite.” Shax released him and stepped back hurriedly. When Furfur turned around, she was stiffly holding out a fist.

Furfur bumped his fist against hers. “Bad day?”

“The worst,” Shax said emphatically.

Furfur shrugged sympathetically. “Could’ve been worse, though, couldn’t it? If you went up against an angel, you’re lucky all you lost was your job. Could’ve been permanently discorporated.” He was glad that hadn’t happened. This new, humbled Shax was much better company. She was like the Shax he’d used to talk to at the water cooler, who had offered to help him and asked for only an unspecified future favor, which was basically nothing in Hell, in return.

“I suppose my punishment could have been worse, as well,” said Shax, looking around the office. “We’ll be working together again. Like old times.”

“Yeah,” said Furfur, grinning. “Except, this time, we’ve got our own office.”

Shax smiled, showing far too many needle-sharp teeth. “With our combined intelligence, the Requisitions department will soon be ours.” “Okay, one thing at a time, yeah?” said Furfur sitting down at his desk. “I’ll see if I can get you that chair, and then we can go from there.”

#good omens fanfic #good omens ficlet #furfur #shax #I want furfur and Shax to be office besties #gossipping about their bosses and/or scheming to overthrow them #stealing all the good pens #traumatizing a succulent #cyankelpie's fic #hugfest 2024

15 notes · View notes

fintan-pyren · 9 months

Note

i am a former kotlc fan. i was on the wiki before and during peak pandemic. i was on the discord server where i transformed into the little anarchist chaos gremlin i had been trying to hide on the wiki. i’ve moved on from kotlc, mostly. a few of my mutuals are from that era of my life, but i don’t think of kotlc when they’re in my notifs. i need you to understand i have moved on. i don’t think about kotlc usually and i’m not posting this on my blog because barely any of my followers know what kotlc is.

but recently, my brain went, unprompted, “hey remember keeper of the lost cities? remember in that series, elves don’t count their age by their actual date of birth, but by their conception date? isn’t that weird? doesn’t that make you ask questions that 10 year old you didn’t know needed to be asked? do you want to think about those questions more?”

eventually, i came upon a very natural question to ask about elven biology in this middle grade book series:

do elves have birth control and/or abortion?

like…they would, right? they must have some sort of birth control. like they have to at least have condoms. how do they get them though? and if there is abortion in the lost cities… how? there has to be a clinic right? is there even the equivalent of a gynecologist in the lost cities? i’m so sorry for this ask but i just need to hear other people’s thoughts and opinions on this.

Birth control, yes. Abortion, no.

Their birth control would vary a fair bit from that of the humans. IUDs and the implant would certainly not be used, as elves would find it horrifying and invasive to have something embedded in their body. I also think they'd find condoms a little primitive. They would probably rely on elixirs. Due to how advanced elven medicine is, these would probably be far more effective than human oral contraceptives, to the point where elves wouldn't bother to use multiple forms of contraception like many humans do, so this would likely be the only form of birth control widely available in the lost cities.

The elves REALLY care about the right genes mixing, so they'd definitely hate the idea of sex before marriage, but I think they'd also realize that they can't necessarily prevent it, so they'd make sure the contraceptive elixirs were easily accessible even to young elves. Elwin would probably have a stock on hand in the Foxfire physician's office, as would most apothecaries and physicians. They would, however, be accompanied by Council-mandated booklets about the importance of the Matchmaking system for any young elves that bought them. (Older married elves would still sometimes use them, but since they believe in the importance of passing on their genetics, and the elven birth rate is naturally pretty low anyways, most wouldn't bother)

They would not, however, have abortion. Since elves count age from the inception date instead of the day of birth, they would view the fetus as an actual person, and would consider abortion to be murder. Since elves don't have miscarriages, and it's basically impossible for an elf to be mistaken about being pregnant, they also wouldn't be able to perform them under the radar. Once that bellybutton pops out, there's no going back.

There wouldn't be many cases of that happening with unwed couples, since elves often marry pretty young. In the cases where it did happen, I think they'd be expected to marry. Partially because elves would rather act as though that kind of thing doesn't happen, partially because half siblings or unknown parents or other uncommon things like that make tracing family trees a little more complicated for the matchmakers.

As for elven gynecologists: Elves can cure diseases/infections and keep the body in good condition pretty well with bottles of youth and elixirs (which is why they only have to worry about birth control, and wouldn't have to use condoms to prevent STDs), and physicians can detect issues quite easily with their colored lights without doing a more hands-on examination, so most issues would probably be dealt with by regular physicians. Even Forkle, who isn't a proper physician (as far as we know), says that he could've fixed most of the patients in a fertility clinic with a couple elixirs. I do think they'd have a couple physicians in the lost cities who specialize in the reproductive system, but even then, I think they'd mostly stick to colored lights for diagnosing things. No poking around in places where nobody really wants people poking around.

#kotlc

30 notes · View notes

ufolliegy · 9 months

Text

hiiiiiii if ur a fan of any Transformers media you should consider joining my discord server! it’s pretty empty rn but my idea for the place is to be a chill place for fans to talk and hang out, share their art, and share their hobbies. :]

THE SERVER IS 16+ !!!!! please do not join if you are under the age of sixteen.

ok bye i love you

#transformers #maccadam

26 notes · View notes

allator-ad · 15 days

Text

So this is a little unedited and abandoned work I was chipping away at but kind of lost the plot on. I don't wanna put it on ao3 since it's not much, but I feel bad just letting it fester in the WIP hell, so here we go!

Warnings for NSFW text, on ao3 it would be rated M not E but it's spicy. The focus is on Tango but there's a decent amount of Zed and a fair amount of Gem and Impulse. I don't think it needs any trigger warnings but if you think of any lmk and I'm happy to add!

It started out innocuous enough, one of the little parties that tended to pop up here and there on the server. Bring a dish to share, drinks provided, music, dancing, yadda yadda etc etc. Just your normal, standard, everyday party. Except for the two words scrawled on the bottom corner of the invite. 'Dress Down.'

Those two simple words sent a shiver down Tango's spine, and in his head he was already running through dozens of scenarios. True, he still had a couple hours to plan, but between indecisiveness and his inability to keep proper track of time, it was probably better to start picking out his outfit sooner rather than later. And doing that would hopefully keep his mind off of... other things as well. At least he was exempt from the potluck rule.

A few short hours later and he was stood outside the grand front entrance to Gem's elven castle, shuffling from foot to foot as he waited. Thankfully it didn't take long before Gem appeared, with a delighted cry of "Tango!" she cleared the last few feet between them and wrapped him up in a hug.

"I'm so glad you were able to make it, oh, you look amazing!"

"Heh, thanks." And he had to admit, he did look pretty damn good. He'd spent most of the time between receiving the invite and now fussing over what to wear and how to do himself up, and he'd settled on a simple but effective outfit.

His top was a skintight sleeveless black turtleneck, complete with cutout window that could only just barely be considered appropriate, showing off plenty of skin and the tuft of fur on his chest. He had waffled between skirt or pants and eventually settled on the latter, skintight as well. They were high rise, belt resting around his middle to allow for another cutout that showed off his tummy and more fur, if he really stretched they'd ride down low enough to flash a glimpse at what was just underneath. The pants also had a series of slashes along the outer thigh from hip to knee, stopping just above his knee-length combat boots. Which may or may not have been taller versions of what he wore already, but hey, it worked.

The whole ensemble was topped off with an array of chains and belts in teal, aqua, and silver, and a shorter replica of his dungeon master robe in the style of a thick, fluffy shrug. To finish off the look he had a light layer of lipstick, and a decent eyeliner and mascara. The last was probably unnecessary, but he liked the look when it ran, and if tonight went anything like he expected it certainly would.

"You ready to go in?" Gem asked once she released him, and when he nodded she held up the finishing touch. He swallowed and tilted his chin up as she fastened the thin red collar around his neck. "Sorry, it's your old one, we didn't get the one in your new colors made in time."

"Nah, it's fine." He waved off her concern with a flick of his wrist, then choked when she hooked a finger through the D ring on the collar and *tugged*.

"We don't wanna keep everyone waiting!" How she could still be so cheery and level headed about something like this he could never understand, but obediently he followed after her, tail flicking and curling behind him in anticipation for what was about to come. Hah.

Gem had transformed one of the empty rooms in her castle for the party, and his eyes went wide as he saw the setup. Oh, he hoped she kept this. Lights hung from the ceiling, dim enough to cast corners into shadow without making visibility impossible. Chairs, tables, and couches were arranged tastefully around the room, a clear designation between the socializing and dining area, and the 'socializing' area. Everything was draped in soft, sheer fabrics, and the music was at the perfect volume to still be heard but allow for easy conversation.

Gem released her hold on Tango's collar and winked. "There's probably enough time for you to grab a bite and a drink before the entertainment is needed, but I think you better hurry." She was right, as he looked around he noticed a few of the other hermits had already showed up, Etho parked in one of the dark corners while Impulse and Pearl were chatting idly on a couch. He debated food for a moment before deciding against it, probably not a good idea until after everyone had their fun. And there go his thoughts again, running through the possibilities tonight would bring, forcing him to muffle a light whimper. Seeing as he had nothing to do for the moment but wait, he chose one of the empty couches tucked further out of the way and leaned his head back, settled in until he was needed.

Time passed as he drifted, lost to his own thoughts until a body settled beside him, hand resting on his thigh.

"Hello hello," he heard from somewhere above and to the left of him, and when he zoned back in enough to be properly aware of his surroundings he was greeted with the grinning face of Zedaph, nose wrinkled in that way it always did when he got excited. "Is this seat taken?"

"No, not at all." At the confirmation Zed's grin widened, and his hand slid up so that his thumb was tucked into the stomach cutout of Tango's pants, making Tango shiver and swallow.

"Glad to hear! I noticed you over here all by your lonesome and figured I'd come see why." Oh fuck, now that thumb was moving in maddening little circles, and he had to fight to stay focused on the conversation.

"Oh, y'know, just enjoying the party."

"All by yourself? But you don't even have any food or drink! You can't be having that much fun."

"Eh, I manage."

"Well if you don't mind I think I'd like to finish up my meal here. And then," he leaned in and licked his lips, eyes hooded, and for how ridiculous it looked Tango should *not* find it sexy, but he still heard himself let out a low whine as Zed continued. "I think you look like an absolutely delicious desert."

"Works for me!" Tango squeaked out, and like a switch flipped Zed pulled back, expression brightening to his usual carefree grin.

"Excellent! I'll be right with you then." He withdrew fully, meaning his hand was no longer slowly driving Tango up the wall, a blessing and a curse. After a deep breath Tango took the reprive to gather his wits, probably not a good idea to fall apart so early in the night after all.

It didn't take long before hands were on him again, this time grabbing his hips and hauling him into Zed's lap.

"Well then! Let's see what kind of trouble we can get up to, shall we?"

Not even bothering to wait for an answer he yanked Tango into a kiss, and where normally Tango would fight and play, tonight he melted into it immediately, letting Zed lick into his mouth without any resistance. Clearly it was appreciated, as one of Zed's hands left his hip to stroke along the base of his tail, making him groan into the kiss.

As usual, it only took a few moments for Zed to get another idea, and he trailed kisses along Tango's jaw until he reached his neck.

"Well that's just rude now, isn't it? Wearing a shirt that covers up so much? Would anyone happen to have a knife?"

So much of his focus had been on Zed that Tango had failed to notice the other hermits congregating around the pair. Scar had pulled over a dining chair and had Grian perched in his lap. Both were intently watching the scene unfolding. Impulse, Gem, and Pearl were still seated at one of the tables, but all three were throwing glances over during lulls in their conversation. A few other hermits were scattered about, but he was stopped from paying much more attention when Etho leaned over the back of the couch to hand Zedaph a knife.

"Ah! Thank you very much. Chin up pet, we wouldn’t want to slice up your pretty skin, now would we?" His grin went sharp as Tango obeyed with a shudder, and he pulled the thin material of his shirt far enough away to make a slice from the top of his neck to where the shirt ended at his shoulder. "At least, not just yet."

Once the fabric had been cut Zed returned the knife to Etho, then immediately latched onto Tango's now-exposed neck with glee. Tango jolted, then moaned as blunt teeth nibbled at his neck. It didn't take long before he was a squirming mess, leaning into wherever Zed's hands were roaming at the moment. At a particularly harsh bite he gasped, grinding his hips down into Zed's below him.

As if it was some kind of signal, a heavy hand descended on his shoulder and a body pressed against his back.

"And what do we have here?" Tango tried to lean his head back to look, but with Zed still demolishing his neck and the hand on his shoulder moving to grip his hair and hold him still, it was impossible. "Letting someone cut up your nice outfit just to go to town on you? Slut."

He wheezed, air knocked out of him like a punch to the gut as the word rattled around in his skull. Slut. He'd never really been on the receiving end of that word before, but with the whole body shudder and desperate grind of his hips, clearly it did something for him. Good to know.

A tug of the hand in his hair pulled him out of his head, and he fumbled as he was pulled from Zed's lap.

"Hey! I wasn't done with him yet!"

"Too bad! You were taking too long, and besides," he was spun around to stare up (and up and up) into Impulse's eyes, and he had to stifle a moan at the expression he saw there. A thumb brushed over his lips and he obediently parted them to let it rest on his tongue. "I can think of a better use for our slut here than just keeping your lap warm and your mouth occupied."

He was pushed down to his knees on the couch, and a pouting Zedaph shuffled to make room as Impulse stepped into Tango's space even more, crowding him in. This received immediate boos from their audience, Scar and Grian now joined by Pearl and Gem.

"What’s the point of all this if we can't even get a show," Grian heckled, and with a roll of his eyes Impulse grabbed Tango by the arms and *lifted* him, adjusting their positions until he was the one seated on the couch and Tango was on his knees on the floor between Impulse's legs.

"Is the peanut gallery happy now?" A few cheers and smattering of light applause, and thenI Impulse had his hand fisted in Tango's hair again, grip just enough to be on the right side of painful. "Good, now I think our entertainment for the evening should show us what he can do with that whore mouth of his."

#ADllatorAlliterature #ta.ngo #ze.daph #im.pulse #ge.m

2 notes · View notes

tech-obssessed-shark · 23 days

Text

#ITS PERFECT #i worked so hard on this #Convos in the Lost Light Server #transformers #Breakdown #tarn #sari sumdac #whirl #tfp #mtmte #tfa #Tfp breakdown #tfa sari #idw tarn #idw whirl

117 notes · View notes

busy-baker · 27 days

Text

I did it! One for the Gale lovers out there. He can be just as lovely as the sassy vampire

Tav heads out for a night of fun with friends. While enjoying herself, she seems to catch the eye of a well known wizard.

f!Tav x Gale

Explicit: Oral, Vaginal Penetration

Word Count: 2.5k

The Blushing Mermaid was pumping music loud enough to shake the floor beneath your feet as you entered the nightclub.

Bodies upon bodies collided with each other as they bumped along, alcohol flowing through their systems. Some swayed casually, others attempted to yell over the deafening bass. A few clubbers found themselves lucky to find a lover for the night, mouths moving sloppily against each other. Surely some would regret their choices come morning light.

“Fireswill shots, ladies?” Karlach yelled, leaning in to your group.

“That sounds awful!” You called back, but reconsidered. Your day had been especially rough at work. “Make it two rounds!”

“Fuck yeah! I’ll be back!” The tiefling exclaimed, bouncing away to the crowded bar. She would have no problem pushing her way to the front of the line whether it be by charm or intimidation.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel groaned at your other friend’s excitement. Karlach was a towering figure which meant carrying her drunken body from the facility took all three of you hoisting a separate section of her body like a limp battering ram.

“Come on!” You said loudly, taking each of their arms and tugging, “Loosen up a little! A few shots and some dancing!”

They rolled their eyes but both gave in as they followed you to the dance floor. The music was fast and was washing away your previous grumpy mood.

Karlach found her way back to your group with both hands full of shot glasses swirling with amber alcohol. Each of you graciously grabbed two shots, throwing them back one after another. The burn coursed down your throat but slowly warmed your insides.

The liquid courage soon hummed through your body as you swayed to a familiar song. Your hips moved in time with the beat as your friends danced nearby. It had been so long since you felt this carefree.

“You are being watched,” Lae’zel said, close to your ear, “He looks desperate, longing for your attention.”

You slowed your movements and turned to follow her gaze towards a section of the club where multiple booths faced towards the dance floor. Each booth was separated by a wall. Servers in skimpy outfits worked their way in and out, providing drinks for the paying patrons.

A man with a handsome face looked away as you captured his eyes with yours, clearly embarrassed he was caught watching you. He lifted his drink to his lips, sipping slowly. Glancing up again, he realized you were still eyeing him and offered a small smile. You couldn’t help but give a little finger wiggle of a wave back and giggle.

“I’ll be back,” you told no one in particular, receiving a thumbs up and two nods as your tipsy friends carried on.

You attempted your best seductive walk over, which probably swayed ever so slightly considering you rarely partook in drinking and even when you had, you were quite the lightweight. Hopefully, the flashing lights combined with the overall darkness helped distract from your lack of elegance.

Gods, he is gorgeous, you thought as you finally approached him.

His skin appeared as if it was kissed by the sun, tanned and toned with a bit of his chest showing underneath the v-neck sweater he wore. A tattoo peeked out just above the collar.

Chestnut hair flowed to his shoulders with some streaks of grey interspersed. He had it partially tied back in a bun revealing an earring. A few strands fell loose but they didn’t seem to bother him. His neatly trimmed beard framed a bashful grin.

His eyes were where you found yourself lost. They embraced you as you looked at him. They were the most beautiful brown and so warm and inviting, crinkling at the sides as his lips upturned.

“I greatly appreciate the compliment,” the man said. You blinked a few times, raising one eyebrow at him. “You said I’m gorgeous. Quite the compliment from someone such as yourself.”

Heat flooded your cheeks at his words. You hadn’t realized you uttered those words out loud. He laughed at your blunder and you couldn’t help but join along.

“Would you care to chat with an old wizard?” He asked, nodding his head towards the empty seat next to him.

“Old? You aren’t exactly decrepit,” you replied, walking over to sit near him, “Now the wizard aspect. I hear they can be a bit difficult to please.”

He turned his body to face you and you scooted closer to him. You crossed your legs and let your heel brush against the fabric of his trousers. He looked down where your shoe had made brief contact with his shin and back to you.

“I assure you, I am not nearly as difficult as others.” His hand came down to rest beside yours and his pinky skated over the back of your hand.

You were unsure if it was the alcohol or pure arousal but you felt completely weak to him. You wanted nothing more than to pounce on him in that booth, audience and all. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to dull the growing ache between them.

A silver haired elf barged his way over, dragging along a human that was completely enamored by him. His crimson eyes darted between the two of you and he broke into a devilish smile.

“Oh, Gale, this is why we do what I suggest. Wonderful outcomes for all!” The pale elf flourished, “We’re going somewhere more private. Enjoy, darlings!” With that, he and his companion for the night were gone leaving you alone with Gale.

The wizard’s finger still slowly shifted back and forth over your hand as he finished his drink. The lull in conversation was doing nothing to stop the wild images flitting through your mind as you studied his every feature.

A server soon blocked the view of the dance floor, balancing a tray of shots. You and Gale sat confused as they began to place one…two…three…four shots each on the sleek table in front of you.

“From the rowdy one over there.” They pointed into the crowd to Karlach, who was laughing, and gave you both a wink before heading to the next booth.

Gale picked one glass up and handed it to you and then picked up his own. There was something in his eyes, mischief maybe, as he raised the shot and it had that familiar heat rising again.

“Nothing better to warm the insides than this poison,” he said, clinking his shot to yours and tossing is back in one swift motion. You followed suit, letting out a long, slow breath afterwards.

~~~

The eight empty shot glasses lined the table as your legs relaxed across Gale’s lap. One hand rested lazily on your shin while the other rubbed slowly up and down your thigh. The fireswill had left both of you open and comfortable for the night.

The music was still blaring and the club was completely packed but you were in your own bubble with the wizard as he talked away about his day. His sleeves were now pushed up on his arms as he relaxed against the leather of the booth.

You both froze as his hand that stroked your thigh went slightly too far down and went underneath the edge of your dress as it came back up. He immediately stopped, hand still on your leg, and cleared his throat, sitting forward a bit.

You sat up further yourself and placed a hand on his, guiding it to the hem of your dress. Your other hand came up to rest on his cheek and his brown eyes locked onto yours as he swallowed.

“Care to show me a few tricks, magic boy?” You asked, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“A few, for now,” he answered as his hand tightened on your thigh.

You quickly swung your legs from his and stood, getting your footing as the room spun for a moment. Gale’s hands steadied you as they grabbed your waist. His front pressed into you and you could feel how hard he was already.

“Lead the way,” he whispered into your ear, snaking his hand into yours.

You sucked in a deep breath and pulled him along with you, weaving through the dancers to the other side of the room.

You jiggled the handle of one bathroom door and found it to be open. Shoving the wizard in, you shut the door behind you and locked it. The muffled music would block any noise from escaping.

With your back to the door, you and Gale face each other. Energy crackled in the air before you met in the middle. Your mouths slammed against each others. The kisses were frantic as your tongues intertwined.

His hands tangled into your hair as he leaned your head back to move his mouth along your neck, across your collarbone, and down to your cleavage.

You clawed at his shirt, trying to grip onto anything that would keep you upright. Sensing your need for stability, he walked you backwards until you were pressed to the door.

His hips ground into yours and the wetness from your arousal soaked your panties. You let out a moan and his stiff cock twitched against you while he continued to tease just above your breasts.

“I want to taste you,” you told him. His lips pulled away and he stared at you eagerly.

“Be my guest,” he said, kissing you hard on the mouth.

You sunk to your knees, heels digging into your thighs, and made eye contact with Gale as you unbuttoned his pants. His thumb roamed over your bottom lip and you took it into your mouth while you pulled his trousers down. You sucked along it before gently biting and letting go.

“What a bad girl,” he admonished but his tone gave away that he enjoyed what you’d done.

You yanked down his briefs to let his shaft spring free, precum dripping from the tip. You licked from the end of your palm to your fingertips and wrapped your hand around him, pumping agonizingly slow at first.

His head fell back with a groan and you grinned before taking him into your mouth. You bobbed up and down, fitting all of him in while his hands gripped your hair. His hips thrusted forwards as he fucked your mouth.

Suddenly, your hair was free but he continued to moved in and out. You were curious until you felt fingers running along your slick cunt, massaging at your folds and soothing the ache that had plagued you since you saw him.

You moaned around him and apparently, this was about to send him over the edge because he pulled himself from your mouth and forced you upright, the mage hand following along and still rubbing along your clit.

“It’s only fair if I have a turn. I would like to return the favor,” he said with a smirk. He removed his trousers and briefs the rest of the way and then reached for the hem of your dress, lifting the snug, black fabric over your head and tossing it aside.

His eyes widened at the sight of you, only in panties and black heels before him. He took a moment to run his hands along your body. They caressed softly against your skin before one hand palmed a breast, fingers pinching the hardened nipple. A gasp escaped your lips at his touch and you only wanted more.

He dipped to the floor to remove your panties and lowered his head between your legs, finding your apex. His mouth connected with the sensitive flesh and you felt as if you would collapse.

Gale’s mouth sucked and licked at the folds, expertly driving you to that place of bliss while the mage hand teased at your chest, pulling and massaging.

His strong hands were sure to leave indentations on your thighs as they gripped onto them to hold you in place.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to come, Gale,” you whimpered as you rode against his face and placed your hand on the back of his head.

He never stopped to even acknowledge you as he freed one of his hands from your thigh to circle a thumb on your clit to bring you over the edge. You moaned loudly and he greedily took in every ounce of your orgasm on his lips.

Before you gave your body a chance to fall to the bathroom floor, you pulled his face up to yours and kissed him, tasting yourself on him. His erection poked at you and you were ready for him.

“I need you to fuck me, Gale. Right now,” you demanded. You usually weren’t so blunt with your words but tonight, you knew what you wanted. You would deal with the hangover tomorrow.

“Whatever you desire,” he replied, “Turn around.”

You spun and put your hands flat against the door, hair falling around your face. The wizard’s hands rested on your hips as he lined his cock up with your entrance before sliding into you with ease. He paused for only a second and then started to piston in and out of you.

Skin on skin echoed in the room as he fucked you, fingers digging into your hips. The mage hand now wrapped its way into your hair and pulled back, forcing your head back. A swift smack on your ass cheek forced a groan out of you.

“That was for biting me,” Gale growled. He was going to drive you mad with his voice alone.

His thrusts became more erratic as he closed in on his own orgasm and you were approaching yours. You moved along with him, slamming back on his cock until you found yourself screaming his name while you were sent over the edge.

You clenched around him and soon enough, he spilled over into you. His warmth filled you as he groaned, thrusting gently as he finished.

Sliding from you and dismissing the mage hand, he found some toilet paper and cleaned off what dripped from you.

You both clumsily dressed, still slightly intoxicated from the alcohol and orgasms. His hair was a definite sign of what had occurred but other than that, no one would have any idea of what happened.

Gale wrapped you in his arms, kissing you sweetly and leaning his forehead to yours. You breathed in his scent and snuggled into his chest.

“I guess I should thank Astarion for dragging me here for our night out. I suspect he knew you girls would be here,” the wizard said.

“You know they like to plot behind our backs,” you told him, smiling up at him.

“All in good fun, my love,” Gale replied, pecking your lips, “I’ll see you at home, Mrs. Dekarios.”

Gale unlocked the bathroom door, winking back at you, and opened his only exit to find a line of upset, drunk club goers who had clearly heard everything that had went on in the Blushing Mermaid’s restroom. Oops.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #perfect strangers #rizzard of waterdeep

2 notes · View notes

softiekawa1 · 2 months

Text

Transformers: Lost Light Discord

So.. Here's the story. I had a really bad experience with another Transformers server (not naming any server) I ended up leaving due to homophobia, and a ton of other things. I decided to make a server in hopes of making a safe space for Transformers fans such as myself. It's still a work in progress and I'm looking for mods and people who could help with such things as adding bots. Hopefully people see this and join, though I'm not expecting this to go far. 🩷

34 notes · View notes

pleasantspark · 1 year

Text

Welcome to Lost Light Redux! A Transformers MTMTE/LL Rewrite RP done it YOUR WAY! We are a selective Community dedicated to roleplaying MTMTE and bringing the community in to aid us in building a story based around the Lost Light. Why should you join?

- We are a friendly non-toxic community

- Custom Templates!

- Odd Jobs to earn in roleplay currency!

- Custom Characters and OC Ship Friendly

- Custom Story Built On By People!

- Roleplay Services

- Unbeliavaboat Store that ties in to the RP!

- Revival Option for Characters that died in RP!

- And Many More!

Come on down now and join us!

#transformers #maccadam #transformers mtmte #transformers idw #mtmte #idw mtmte #mtmte role play #transformers roleplay #roleplay #rp #mtmte discord server #transformers discord rp #transformers discord #discord rp #discord #. 💞 ; txt

13 notes · View notes

i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

Note

hey would you be interested in writing about Fëanor and Nerdanel in their younger years?

It's Irene by the way, told you I'll be back 😈

Dear Irene...This is for you...

Another big thank you to the SWG server for helping me figure out where and when everyone was (I hope it's correct).

Also, Fëfë is far from good, but I also don't bash him needlessly. Please let me know if you think that the balance between 'unhinged' and 'loving' has struck you as off.

This is my first time writing this pairing, so...I don't know...

Words: 3k

Characters: Fëanor / Nerdanel

Warnings: It's Fëanor...so...no, should be okay. No blood, no awful things.

Nerdanel grunted upon seeing the man kneeling by the surface of the lake she had been trekking towards tirelessly; annoyance rippled through her like his hands paddled – stupidly, in her opinion – through the water.

Her plan had been to observe and sketch the delicate spectacle of the light wind moving the surface in intricate patterns but that was hardly possible now with that oaf of an Elf splashing around in so undignified a manner; his breeches bore dark stains, she discovered as she drew closer, and the sleeves of his fine coat were soaked. Careless!

“This is not how you wash, my Lord,” she said in a deceivingly sweet tone before even greeting him and almost stumbled back a step when he trained startingly intense eyes on her furiously blushing face, but she stood firm, her stubborn chin stuck out defiantly.

A shiver – simultaneously scorching and ice-cold – ran down her straight spine; he struck her as dangerous and bewitching akin to great heights and dark places that invited one to do something recklessly foolish but undeniably exhilarating.

“Dear maiden,” he replied – his voice smooth as her father’s creations and just as unyielding – with but a hint of a smile, “were I to wash, I would be in a state of undress quite inappropriate for a place where one might be interrupted by curious girls.”

Her cheeks puffed out in an unvoluntary admission of dismay; she resented the implication that it was she who was foiling any monumentally important plans of his when – according to the impatient zeal burning in her chest – it was he who was entirely superfluous and irritatingly disruptive. His very presence – and what an overwhelming one it was – made her skin tingle with emotions she could not quite disentangle while still under the spell of those luminous, unmoving eyes.

“If you are not engaged in a ritual of hygiene,” she snarled, “I would be most grateful to be left alone.”

A long-fingered, elegant hand was indolently waved at the path she had just left to cross over to the pristine body of water.

“I wish you pleasant travels,” the stranger said in a cheery tone drenched in mockery, “may the Valar keep you safe.”

“I need the lake,” Nerdanel shot back, knowing that – had this encounter taken place during her younger, wilder years – she would have loved to shove that impressive frame, uncoiling like the metal her father bent to his will, into the lake without qualms.

The thought of that venerated and skilful smith dampened her fury somewhat though; Mahtan had tempered her – his beloved daughter – with as much devoted patience as he applied to all his works. Nonetheless, just like the metals transforming beneath his strong fingers, Nerdanel remembered the fire and the raw power that had been hammered into another shape without ever being lost.

“And you shall try to take it away with you?” the man asked, his jeering now unveiled and infused with a sense of absurd self-importance, “May I witness this? I am a scholar of all things new and seemingly impossible.”

“Fool,” she muttered under her breath, but he had at least withdrawn his hands from the water and was now drying them off rather unceremoniously on his rich robes, “I am Nerdanel and I desire to study the naturalmovements of the lake’s surface.”

“The smith Mathan’s girl?” The eager surprise made him look suddenly younger and Nerdanel couldn’t deny that he had a fair face – well-balanced and beautifully angled – to look upon.

“I am not a girl,” she replied with vehemence, “but I claim my heritage proudly. Yes, he is my father.”

“I am Finwë’s son,” he then declared pompously.

Thinking aloud, she dismissed the two younger princes for the creature – now standing to his full height – glowering at her struck her as neither wise nor noble, and she did not hesitate to let him share these private musings.

“I am the skilled one,” he ground out, “the smart one.”

Whether he was as he described himself, she could not yet tell, but – as a sculptress and an artist – Nerdanel could no longer deny that the way his brows furrowed into an expression halfway between disdain and bleak anger made the lake’s minute undulations lose all its charm and lure.

Her fingers twitched impatiently; unlike her father who – using pincers and hammers – put his works into the fire to cow them to his will, Nerdanel needed to feel the heat pool in her palms and flow along her fingers. In Mahtan’s world, the flames licked on the outside of his creations, but – to her – it always came from within; she yearned to free it, to get – by carving and moulding – as close to that destructive and creative power as she possibly could.

“Fëanáro,” the man introduced himself and – when her palm met his – she could feel the heat shoot up her veins; there were peril and doom concentrated in his voice, in his smile, in his touch, and she flinched back in instinctive self-preservation.

Trying to perfect the illusion of life in her sculptures, she spent long hours watching things and people in movement to commit that one moment in which they were perfectly still to memory in order to try and emulate the magical intake of breath before accomplishing exceptional feats. This Fëanáro – his mother-name, which in itself was an interesting choice – was fiercely alive, and she was dying to try and recreate that watchful, slightly teasing, but ultimately breath-taking intensity in stone and clay despite the warning thrills echoing in her mind.

She’d never shied away from taking risks where her art was concerned, and she would not be cowed by the air of fatality that surrounded this man like the bittersweet stench of a flower he could not wash off. Maybe it would fade, she thought, and maybe she’d just grow used to it.

His eyes rested on her supplies – sketchbooks and small balls of clay – that she had already taken out of her pack and nodded, apparently finding himself to be exceedingly gracious as he said: “I see you have creative endeavours of your own; I shall content myself with theoretical calculations then.”

She was grateful, not only for the lake that no longer held any sway over her mind and that she felt herself forcedto watch idly now, but also – or especially – for the fact that he did not leave but settled by her side and started scribbling meticulous notes she could not decipher into a worn notebook.

To her surprise, Fëanáro turned out to be a good companion; occasionally, he would draw her attention to a particularly interesting pattern or – leaning over confidently – correct her approximate rendition with bold strokes on the paper in her lap. He had a good eye and a keen understanding; at some point, he volunteered the information that he had also come to study the movements – underwater currents rather than surface ripples – of the water in an endeavour that was more academic than artistic in nature.

Nerdanel shrugged – still a tad vexed and dimly aware of how inappropriate this complicity might have been – but it seemed that Fëanáro was indeed aware of how much she enjoyed his company; they worked well together and – for the first time ever – the abstract thought of having, for more than a few hours, someone other than her father to work with caressed her burgeoning, fertile mind.

Creation was what mattered most to her, it was the very essence of her soul, and this imperious, self-enamoured, cocky Elf not only seemed to understand this, nay, he clearly agreed with her and granted her the respect she had ever suspected she was owed for the strength of her imagination and the scope of her talent.

From that first chance encounter on, she would see him often; they’d explore the Mountains of the Pelóri and Oromë’s forest together, him questing for the roots and origins of all things and her entranced by all the moving parts. He seemed keen on changing the immutable while she attempted to capture and immobilise the fleeting; they were opposites and yet two halves that fit together almost too well not to startle her usually so rational and reliable wisdom into prudence and wariness.

Between their squabbles – for he was at times so haughty and impatient that she felt like throwing stones at him – they thus complemented each other perfectly in ways that would make the good people of Tirion pale. Nerdanel had never been a great beauty who would compete with the golden ladies lounging languidly on superb settees and it felt indescribably vindicating to roam through the wilderness at the side of a prince who challenged her to climb higher and dare more, never minding whether their garments were muddied and torn in the process.

“You’re a wild one,” he called up to her as she lay across a dangerously swaying branch to sketch the exact shadows cast by the wispy leaves only just unravelling; it sounded like a compliment from his lips, and Nerdanel smiled. She smiled a lot these days. Until he disappeared.

“Daughter, meet my new apprentice.”

She froze as if stricken by sudden illness. Had he only indulged her to gain access to her father’s genius? Betrayal sent smouldering tendrils of bare flame racing through her body, and Nerdanel was sure that she must have resembled her own statues so much in this moment that it was little wonder people talked to them, believing them to be alive and merely lost in thought.

Her father’s next words – blurry and vague – ran like rivulets of rainwater down the impassive, impenetrable marble her whole body had petrified into, but then the cursed apprentice spoke, and the shell shattered like ceramic under too much heat.

“Nerdanel,” he greeted, “I’ll try not to neglect our outings henceforth. What a joy to see you though, is your workshop near?”

He seemed earnest enough, but her tongue felt leaden and numb, so she simply jabbed a vague thumb into the direction in which her atelier lay – nestled within her mother’s luscious garden – and wondered whether he’d be interested in seeing it.

No, she thought in a flash of panic, he must never glimpse the bust hidden under sheets stiff and worn with age and use; ever since that first meeting, she had endeavoured to ban his likeness and its haunting charm into the lifeless, controllable medium of wet clay. Unfortunately, her hands had never known the shape of his brows and her fingers had never traced the curve of his lips, so how could she expect them to reproduce those exquisite lines from fantasy alone?

The first few days, she avoided both the loathsome, treacherous intruder and her father’s forge as much as possible, going so far as to lock herself into her own little realm to distract herself by chipping away at stone in hopes that it would lessen the weight pressing down on her own heart as well.

As the silver light of Telperion fell onto her bared shoulders like a caress one evening though, she slipped out of her sanctuary and into her father’s forge, thinking herself safe and alone after having seen everybody leave; Mahtan had casually let her know that he had finished the new set of chisels she had been dreaming about and she merely wanted to dip in and out of his workspace quickly before she returned to that infuriating complexion that haunted her every waking moment by now.

Not a romantic, silly kind of girl, Nerdanel did not question her obsession with Fëanáro – believing it to be purely aesthetical in nature – even though she found herself more inspired and more irritated than ever before by the way his objectively gorgeous frame and visage were animated with an essence so incandescent and unpredictable it took her breath away and made her stomach clench in apprehension of threats unknown.

Now though, as she looked upon his unclothed torso – the very situation he had jokingly referenced that first day – she realised that a bust would never do; he was broad-shouldered and of impressive stature, and she knew that she was indecent for not averting her eyes but the artist in her couldn’t bear foregoing the chance of studying such an example of excellent composition and pristine alignment of limbs.

The light of the dying forge fire mingling with the sheen of the tree falling through the open door turned him into a painting of flaming gold and cool silver; she had never seen anything quite like it and she would never be able to forget this sight.

He looked up at her and the expression of grim focus drained suddenly as his brows lifted in friendly interest.

“Nerdanel, have you come to chase me once more or am I tolerated by your side as I once was?” The smile melting and glowing on his handsome face like the metal they poured and stretched all day long in this place made her heart skip a beat; had it been cocky and arrogant, she would have rebuffed him mercilessly, but the open, almost boyish quality of it mellowed her instantly.

“I am just retrieving the tools my father says he’s made for me,” she replied slowly, hearing how her own words trickled sluggishly from her prickling lips, and tried to lick away the specks of pure heat that danced on them and drove treacherous colour into her high cheeks.

“Ah yes,” he grinned and bent down – granting her a surprisingly fascinating view on his backside – to retrieve the small bundle Mahtan had put aside for her; it was tucked away in their usual spot that they’d used ever since she had been barely big enough to open the heavy door to the forge by herself. When he had learned that his daughter had a creative mind too, he had put a small crate under one of the workbenches and henceforth, they’d exchange small tokens of their crafts by leaving them in it for the other one to find. It was their tradition and now his hands were all over that tender secret.

“I have taken the liberty of adding a few of my own design,” Fëanáro commented lightly when she frowned at the weight of the package he handed to her; untying the knots securing it, Nerdanel found a few interesting chisels – so unexpectedly delicate and expertly crafted that she gasped under her breath – that were, obviously, signed boldly as the work of the prince of the Noldor.

“Thank you,” she muttered and made to leave but a hand – hot and rough with metal flakes, ashes, and dust – wrapped around her wrist before she could take the first step.

“I love learning from your father,” Fëanáro hummed under his breath, “but I could have studied anywhere, you know that.”

“He’s the best,” she replied icily, “you’ve made a good choice.”

“He was the only choice!”

“For his skills.” “For his daughter!”

Her eyes widened; she knew herself to be ruddy and – despite not being entirely devoid of charm and beauty – hardly the kind of woman the first-born son of King Finwë should be wooing, hence, she could only conclude that he was mocking her cruelly.

“You’re a pretty girl,” Fëanáro complimented her with that easy grace that was more dangerous than his worst bursts of anger because it was so utterly winning, “but aren’t they all?”

He gave a short, mirthless burst of hacked-off laughter, expressing his bored disinterest in things that were purely decorative.

“You are useful,” he went on, that burning passion, that was so unmistakeably his, back with a vengeance, “you are fertile.”

And while any other lady of her acquaintance would have been insulted by his words, Nerdanel understood.

“What glorious beauty we could create,” he went on, unbridled force flashing hypnotically in his eyes, “you are one of a kind. So am I. Let those others be wise, noble, and so boring they lull themselves to sleep.”

Before she could answer, his lips were on hers and his hand – dirty as it was – tangled into her dark auburn hair, steering her with as much self-assured calm as he displayed when commanding his pen, his tools, and his whole body.

The groan she gave in lieu of an answer or appropriate reaction was as feral and hungry as her soul; her father’s daughter to the end, she’d plunge into the flames fearlessly to see what shape this ruthless genius would bend her into and – in turn – she’d run her hands over him until she could feel the fire burning deep within lick at her fingertips.

Not long after that, Fëanáro revealed his upcoming betrothal to his tutor��s daughter, and – even though there were many things they could never have foreseen at that moment – they were proven right in one thing, beyond the shadow of a doubt: the things they made together were of unparalleled beauty and charm.

“Nelyafinwë,” Fëanáro declared upon holding his first-born who – despite being perfect – would not stem the tide of rolling fire within his chest.

“Maitimo,” Nerdanel replied, exhausted but happy, staunchly convinced that the miracle they had put forth by strength of mind and through resilience of flesh would herald an eternity of bliss.

How little she had known then and how long she’d regret her naïve faith after she learned that fire and wrath – if not quelled or quenched – could reduce marble and clay to a dust so fine and stubborn, it stayed stuck, ever grinding and irritating, under swollen lids, making her eyes water forevermore.

I have no idea why everything is in bold, but I didn't dare change it for fear that the italics disappear haha...

Dear Irene, I hope you liked this...I am sorry it grew so long (as a reply to "would you be interested"...lol)

Lots of love from me ❤️❤️

@sorisooyaa maybe I can change your mind hahaha

#request #IDNMT answers #fanfiction #Fëanor #Fëanor x Nerdanel #before they were wed #prequel #happy #crack #love #doom

45 notes · View notes

pluralsword · 2 years

Photo

Image description: concept art of MP-36 Megatron from the Generations 2017 book; sketches of the head and body and weapons with noted details, and that the ‘difficult problem of how to reproduce G1 Megatron in three dimensions without damaging the image of the G1 anime,’ was solved by Ōshima Yūki (大嶋優木), a freelance toy designer, manga artist, and writer. The text was translated to English by Deruji on January 1st 2019, the translation commissioned by Liampope. Some notes include that the mace head should be big and light, the Megatron mold intended to be taller than Optimus Prime, elbows like inferno, and that great care was taken in reproducing Megatron’s characteristic “jaw.” Source link below, end image description.

So... MP-36 concept art had this "thighs should be seductive" comment in it (here's the link to the source https://tfw2005.com/boards/threads/generations-2017-book-mp-36-megatron-article-translated.1096818/) For those who didn’t zoom in:

Image description: A zoom in on Megatron’s concept art, specifically the tapered right thigh, and the hip armor skirt and hand. There is an upwards arrow pointing at the thigh with text below reading: “thighs should be seductive.”

Someone on a discord server we’re on started making jokes out of it which we found hilarious, and we started doing our own, so here’s some of ours (1 of 4):

Image description: slightly re-edited panels of The Transformers: Lost Light #4 "Dissolution Part 4: Bad Moon Rising", of trans lesbian transformers Anode (a lanky biplane bot) and Lug (a stout backpack bot) sitting having a heated conversation under the memorial to The Disappeared, on Necroworld in blue daylight. For added context for the edited in joke, Lug’s thighs are (very cute) boxy rectangles, not tapered. The conversation, unlike the actual text, goes like this:

Lug, with a drooped expression: “You told me you left the Lighthouse because of me. You said – thighs should be seductive. I felt so guilty. So. [Upwards arrow symbol]. Your one chance to train as a blacksmith and I was the reason you gave up. That’s what I thought, Anode. That’s what you let me think.”

Anode, looking up from the blue flower she had been looking while listening: “I did miss you. I missed you in ways I can’t put into words. And I really didn’t think you’d blame yourself. In fact I kind of thought you’d be –“

Lug interrupts with an angry expression: “If you say ‘flattered,’ we’re never speaking again.

Both look away from each other.

End image description.

(Thighs Should Be Seductive Joke Image 2 of 4) Image description: A reedited panel of the planet deity transformer Gaea’s core and head facing Grimlock and the Acolytes of Unicron in Hasbro Transformers Collectors’ Club # 70: Of Masters and Mayhem, Part 4: “Divination.” Grimlock and the Acolytes of Unicron stand in shadow, while Gaea’s giant head with a helm of green, orange, and blue and orange optics speaks: “You are correct, Grimlock. Thighs should be seductive.”

End image description.

(Thighs Should Be Seductive Joke Image 3 of 4)

Image description: A reedited panel of Arcee and Greenlight talking in Magic of Cybertron #1: A Real Mother. The two’s heads are visible, Arcee has an an audial-bunned and a prominently crested helm, whereas Greenlight has a cheek guarded helm with winglet audials and a smaller crest. Both are smiling, the dialogue exchange goes like this (comma added, we missed it):

Greenlight: “Attempting to replicate thighs should be seductive, wise move.”

Arcee: “Yyyyes, exactly my plan.”

End image description.

(Thighs Should Be Seductive Joke Image 4 of 4)

Image description: Three reedited panels from The Transformers: Optimus Prime #21: The Falling, Chapter 6: Unforgivable, of Aileron (a chubby rounded spaceplane flyer bot) and Arcee (a robust and curvy car bot with tall back stacks) together among the ruins of Cybertron. Here’s what happens:

Aileron, running towards Arcee: “Geez. Victorion’s not messing around.”

Arcee, stepping closer to her: “Aileron – “

Aileron: “What? You still mad you couldn’t kill Devastator yourself?”

Arcee: “No...”

Arcee leans in and hugs Aileron around her back and over her shoulder to kiss her optics shut on the lips, picking her up off the ground, Aileron’s arm stuck out mid-air in surprise, optics wide open.

After Arcee leans back, she smiles and says: “Thighs should be seductive.”

End image description.

Suffice to say that back in February amidst the Thighs Should be Seductive meme fever that was happening we immediately turned to wholesome trans and sapphic humor. A later lighthearted continuation of this:

Image description: In front of a nighttime polityscape backdrop on a windowsill, Aileron (TR Topspin kitbash) and T30 Arcee hold each other while Overlord does a hand stand behind them and FoC Jazz, who has hands on his hips. WFC Siege Megatron is behind him to the right with a left arm raised as if speaking, and in front of Megs is BBM Arcee holding BBM model kit Arcee's thighs in her arms. Behind the two are IDW2-esque Arcee (WFC Nightbird kitbash) and WFC Greenlight looking into each other’s optics arm in arm. To their right is WFC Nova Storm standing sideways behind Anode (kitbashed from RID 15 Warrior class Windblade) and Lug (TR Rewind kitbash), looking at each other holding hands. Lastly, Legacy Bulkhead is fist bumping Lancer (CW Swindle kitbash) behind S86 Hot Rod, who has an open left hand outstretched. A speech bubble hangs above them all for everyone except Greenlight and IDW2 Arcee, saying: "Thighs across shape are BEAUTIFUL!" Arcee and Greenlight are saying "Your thighs are seductive..." End image description.

With that said, go forth, and make more thigh robot memes to your soul’s seductive delight!

34 notes · View notes